


At the End of the Day

by fish-with-a-pencil (DeadFeesh24)



Series: Drunk Writing [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: I wrote this drunk and did not edit this, Inside Victor's head, M/M, Viktor with a K because I can't help myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 13:42:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9494006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadFeesh24/pseuds/fish-with-a-pencil
Summary: How do you quantify all the little variables at the end of the day, how many glasses of champagne Yuuri drank, the beats per minute of Viktor’s weak, lovestruck heart?  How does one measure a feeling?Hell, what was he even feeling right now?Exhilarated?  Confused?  Happy?No matter what it was, by god, he wasfeeling.Viktor tries to do the math after the Grand Prix banquet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yo it's right before my modest bedtime of 8 pm and I'm drunk off of half a bottle of wine so I wrote this unedited thing. In all seriousness my own filter really keeps me down, and two glasses of wine really helps sometimes, so I just decided to go with it and post it for fun ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Enjoy!

As he warmed up with compulsory figures, Viktor knew Yakov was watching him carefully.  Like he’d jump off the deep end if so much as a stiff breeze passed his way. However, Viktor was a little more self aware than his coach ever gave him credit for (or so he hoped), so he twirled aimlessly as he collected his thoughts.

How insane is it to fall in love with a man you danced with for a night?

How insane is it to fall in love with a  _ drunk _ man you danced with for a night?

How do you quantify all the little variables at the end of the day, how many glasses of champagne Yuuri drank, the beats per minute of Viktor’s weak, lovestruck heart?  How does one measure a feeling?

Hell, what was he even feeling right now?

Exhilarated?  Confused?  Happy?

No matter what it was, by god, he was  _ feeling _ .  How long had it been since he had felt something this clear?  Something that seeped into his bones like this?

_ It had only been a night _ , Viktor reminded himself as he went through another waltz eight unthinkingly,  _ how could a single night mean this much? _

He tried to be rational.  He  _ needed _ to be rational.  Sober, Yuuri Katsuki hadn’t given him the time of day.  And yet, longing bloomed deep within his chest.  He ached with it, and was still monumentally grateful to be feeling anything at all, no matter how much it hurt.  There was no way Yuuri truly liked him, not after the way Viktor mistook him for a fan, instead of a competitor, but he had still given him a gift that could never be forgotten.  Even if just for a night, Yuuri had thawed Viktor Nikiforov’s frozen heart, and left.  

“Yakov, can I do one run through before we start?”

His coach grunted, but turned on the speakers without a fight.  Softly,  _ Stammi Vicino  _ started to play.

The pain of a broken heart was exquisite; it was nearly tangible, in his chest, and suddenly, as he finished his first quad, he understood the music more than he ever had.

Rationally, Viktor knew that a single night shouldn’t make him cry like this, but everything felt so raw to him, every lyric revealing truths he hadn’t seen before.  

Perhaps it was because the night had been so strange; a normal banquet he could’ve just smiled through and been on his numb, frozen way.  No, any life that made its way into Viktor’s life had to come in the hard way; and a completely drunk Yuuri Katsuki was the quickest way to smash through Viktor’s walls, apparently.

Maybe it was a little crazy (who was he kidding, it was definitely crazy), and maybe, Viktor would never truly interact with Yuuri another day in his life, and maybe, he was still a bit hungover and bedraggled and skating to his FS performance at three in the morning.  But when it came right down to it, no matter how irrational it was when you did the math, Viktor Nikiforov was a live again.

And for that, in the least, he was grateful.


End file.
